


Body Politics

by asukalangley



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, an impatient one at that. one with sideplots i barely allude to but are still there, another inej comes home drabble thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 04:10:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14228946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asukalangley/pseuds/asukalangley
Summary: He’s still the only one she’ll love completely, and she’s still the only one he’ll let himself love at all.





	Body Politics

**Author's Note:**

> writing this was way out of my comfort zone and i think that really shows in this. it's all just one big ramble idk! i just couldn't get their voices down  
> anyway the title for this is from iamx's body politics. it's a good song

Inej comes home to him.

It takes some time – she has people to hunt, a sea to survive – but she does, just as he hoped she would.

* * *

Kaz’s room is clean, but not in the way she had expected it to be. The walls seem hollow, like they are just pillars to hold in the dull and stale air, and the bed looks stiff and unbroken by use. There is a new set of shelves, though it is empty save for the middle row. There is more blank space than character, and Inej wonders if it’s a safety precaution or if he’s just been feeling less himself now that Pekka Rollins is out of the picture.

Her perch at the window, however, feels right beneath her feet, like it has been waiting all this time for her to come back. She almost smiles as her hand runs along the the sill, remembering times when she would sit here and feed the crows or watch him work (sometimes both). When she would sharpen her knives, when she was scrambling for life. She had been oh-so-good at scrambling, at clawing her way up buildings and fighting her way out of corners.

But now that she is out, what does it mean to be apart of something new? To be apart of a group of people who are more like family than a band of criminals, to fight not because she has to, but because it is a choice she has made for herself?

 _Freedom_.

It is an impossible word. Until now, it has been an impossible possibility.

She almost thinks that he will not come, but just when she’s about to turn back to the streets, she hears it: the unmistakable thump of a cane hitting stairs.

The look of surprise on his face when he reaches the top translates into something so much more – _he would always find her_. She smiles, soft and hesitant. His shoulders relax.

“How long has it been?” She asks. There’s his hair, cropped the same as always, silky smooth like water or honey or something as equally sweet, and for the thousandth time she wishes she could touch it. Some things stay the same, but others do not.

A flash of confusion crosses his features before he understands. “I decided it was high time for some spring cleaning.”

“And that involved getting rid of half your inventory?”

“Something like that.”

She unfurls from her crouch and lightly steps into the room, her gaze never straying from him. She holds out her hand.

He looks down at it slowly, as if she is showing him some kind of secret, speaking life into the silence in the room, or perhaps as if he is seeing it for the first time.

“Go on.” She says, the words no more than a breath. She understands that kind hands can have sharp claws. She understands that everyone has demons that chase them into the dark; that he, too, flinches at the feel of skin on skin. Saints, does she know this well. Inej does not want to contemplate it too much, but she does not want to push him away.

Kaz pulls his glove off as if it is nothing. Her breath hitches in her throat as he steps towards her, his armor off, and his hand slips into hers. She feels him tense and shudder, but then they are standing there, two people who dared to dream of the impossible and saw it through.

“What are you working on?” She asks, stepping closer towards him.

He raises a sharp brow. “Are you asking as Inej, or are you asking as the Wraith?”

“I am _your_ Wraith.”

She is gratified by the slow smile on his lips. His other hand comes up to her chin, and though he is hesitant and the movement is more jerky than fluid, she can still feel her heart trying to escape her ribs. “Tell me about your escapades.” He replies, and the deal is a deal.

She tells him about the sea, how the boat feels underneath her feet and how she has learned to love it now that she is the one in control. She speaks of the slaving fleets, and admits shyly that she had sat down and wondered what Kaz himself would do, and had planned the attacks from there. She tells him the information she has gathered for him, of the Ketterdam officials who turn a blind eye and those who are fully complacent.

He tells her about the procurers he’s targeting, how he plans to take them down brick by brick, starting at the bottom and only when it is too late the pigeons will wonder where their steady foundation has gone. He almost smirks as he recounts all the stories of the Barrel, of how Rotty has accidentally managed to piss off a reputable lawyer on the good side of town by pretending to be him.

They laugh and smile and Inej thinks of how good it is to be home.

He does not let go of her hand.

* * *

Inej wonders if she wants people to know. It strikes her that night, as they lie on opposite ends of the bed and she watches the way the moonlight catches on his lashes, that nothing would ever happen if people knew. Kaz would not let people hold her against him, and despite what he might think, there would be no decline in her worth. The Barrel would talk, some might say otherwise, but they have both never bothered to defend their character to strangers – or even their own friends, for that matter. She knows that Kaz is a good man even if he is insistent that he is anything but.

She realises he probably thinks she is ashamed of him.

And why wouldn’t he? They are private people, yes, but perhaps she has always wanted to avoid the fallout of loving him. Her time as a spider has taught her that it is easier to deal with a secret than the reaction of everyone knowing. That making it known would mean making it tangible, and perhaps then they could not be themselves anymore. People would want them to show affection to each other in public. Nina would want to see proof that Inej is happy and proof that Kaz isn’t as horrible as he makes himself out to be. Jesper would want proof that Kaz is human. Wylan would want proof that his life isn’t going to get upturned again.

Inej stops caring. So they will know. They will know that she has feelings for Kaz Brekker; respected, feared Dirtyhands. But Inej has dealt with slaving ships, the high wire, mercenaries, menageries, war, and the death of people she cares for.

She can handle a little bit of gossip.

“I can hear you thinking from here.”

Inej doesn’t realise she’s stopped breathing until she only hears Kaz’s in the silence of the room, and if her voice comes out thick, Kaz pretends not to notice. “I didn’t realise you were awake.”

His brows knit. “If you’d rather I–” Or maybe not.

“I’m fine. I’m just…” Her eyes scan the scar on his brow, the curves of his cheekbones. The distance between them is not enough. The distance between them is too much. “Do you want people to know?” She is a little surprised when the embarrassment does not come. “Would it hurt you if people knew you had a heart?”

And because nothing can protect you from someone else’s own fear, someone else’s own will to live, Kaz says, “no. Not if it means I get to spend more time with you.”

Heat creeps up her neck. She rubs her foot against her opposite ankle, shoving her hand deeper beneath the pillow. Being with him, hearing those words, is like waking up after years of having her eyes shut. “You should go back to sleep, Kaz.”

“Your worrying will keep me up. What about this situation is bothering you?”

“I have shared a bed with Nina enough to be okay with it now. With this.” She lets the words linger. “I’m just looking for trouble where there isn’t any.”

It is fascinating to watch the display of emotions rush across his face. He eventually settles with eyeing her appraisingly, as if that is the answer he wants to hear. “It happens to the best of us.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Her lips crack into a tired grin. For this moment, time hangs suspended. Maybe they are different now, she and her Barrell Boss – what is he? Boyfriend? – older and more mature and worse for wear from all the hard years they’ve endured. But in their pasts there were no times for smiles, no times for stolen glances like the thieves they are. This is different. This is new. This is _right_. “We’re not normally like this when we’re sleep-deprived, are we?”

“No. We tend to just hatch disastrous plans when we are.”

“I recall a few good ones from your end.”

“Those were the ones with the most potential to blow up in our faces. Several of them still did.”

Inej hums softly. “Well, it’s a good thing the right ones didn’t go wrong, then. I wouldn’t be nearly as rich as I am now.” Her smile widens.

“Selfishness is the pit of the human soul–”

“Selfishness is at the center of our hearts. Guilt and shame scar the soul.”

Kaz raises a brow, though it lacks its usual sharpness in the heat of drowsiness. “That’s not a Suli proverb, is it?”

“No.” She closes her eyes. “Just common sense.”

Silence falls, both of them beginning to drift to sleep. She knows that when she opens her eyes again, whether it is in the next ten seconds or when morning comes, there will be a new kind of steel forged between them. She knows that this one will hold steady.

“Goodnight, Inej.”

She whispers, “goodnight, Kaz.”

* * *

 The end to their risky play of time comes with dawn.

“We have to talk.” Kaz says as he slips his gloves back on his hands, acting as if this is nothing more than a business transaction and that she is nothing but another Dreg. In the distance she can hear the others waking up, their chatter and stomping muffled by the levels between them. It is a familiar intrusion, but she narrows her eyes at him all the same.

“A procurer arrived in Ketterdam three nights ago and is planning to leave again tonight. We don’t want to tip off his partners too soon, so it’s going to need the utmost discretion.” He reaches for his cane as he meets her gaze. “This is something that requires the Wraith.”

“And you didn’t tell me this yesterday because...?”

Something like shame flickers in his eyes. Then again, Inej could just be imagining things. “You know the answer to that.”

“I’d rather hear it from you.”

Kaz squares his shoulders back like telling her will take something from him. “It shouldn’t have to always be like this.” He starts. “It shouldn’t have to be business all the time.”

“Better terrible truths than kind lies.”

“Better terrible truths than kind lies.” He repeats, and the words sound much better matched with the burr of his voice. Inej thinks that maybe they haven’t changed at all, not in the ways that matter.

“Tell me why half your stuff is missing.”

“I couldn’t do with the distractions.”

Her brows knit. “What distractions?”

“I can’t run Ketterdam when you’re always in my head.”

And how can Inej stay on an even keel when he says things like this?

She takes a drag of air, in and out. Then – “Are there any other jobs I should know about?”

He shakes his head. He gestures with his cane to his desk, and she steps towards it. She looks at the stack of papers on the side of it, the drawers filled with unimportant notes. It is meant to taunt anyone who snoops. Everything is kept in his head. “None that are anywhere near finalised.”

“You never play just one game.”

He makes a noise almost like a laugh. “Let me worry about them. Your turn to play will come soon enough.”

“It had better.” She says bitterly. She turns to him and strengthens her resolve. “I don’t want any more secrets.”

“Of course you don’t.”

She glances at the palm of his hand, remembers what it feels like against her skin, and the echo of the memory almost makes her shudder. “I don’t want us to be a secret.”

“I was under the impression that we weren’t.” He says disarmingly.

“No, you just weren’t telling anyone. There’s a difference.”

“Why? Because one is shameful, and the other is private?”

Inej purses her lips. “And are you ashamed of this?”

“This…” But he doesn’t finish. There are so many ways he can end that beginning, but he just lets it dangle as precariously as their fate. She remembers the deck of a ship, how she’d waited for him to finish what she’d started, how he did not speak. The uncertainty is like an old friend. She’ll walk one way, toward her ship, and he’ll stay here, in Ketterdam. One day this tenuous seesaw they’re balancing on will swing one way or another. For now she’ll take comfort in old habits.

“I’ll do the job tonight, Kaz.” She makes to turn towards the window, but he stops her.

“I’m not ashamed of this. I just don’t think I’ll ever become the man you want me to be if anything happened to you because of…” He gives an irritated shake of his head. “You are my tell.”

Her brows skyrocket. “I am your tell?”

“Why do you think Van Eck took you?” He chides, as if she is a child who just doesn’t _get_ it. And maybe she doesn’t.

“You…” It’s her turn to shake her head. “No. You don’t make mistakes like that. Not because me.”

His face darkens.

“I will not let anyone use me against you.” She continues, determination drawing her brows. She has always been wringing little pieces of decency out of him, but this… this is too much for her heart to handle. Her brain, however, has other plans. “And I will not keep this from our friends to protect your business.”

The expression on his face is almost a sneer; a mixture of awe and disparagement. “And how do you suggest I keep you safe from that?”

“You’ll find a way. You always do.”

He considers this for a moment, tapping his finger against the head of his cane in a four beat rhythm. Then – “We’ll do the job. Then we’ll tell them. Or you will. I haven't decided yet.”

“A deal is a deal.” Inej says.

“A deal is a deal.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to bug me with fic prompts n stuff over on [tadasgay](http://tadasgay.tumblr.com/) or [shikinami](http://shikinami.tumblr.com/)


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